


I Knew You Were A Bad Idea (From the Moment You Asked to Sleep in My Bathtub)

by DustySoul



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: College, M/M, POV Character of Color
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4271925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustySoul/pseuds/DustySoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The constant solid, unchanging fact in Colonel James Rhode’s life is this: Tony Stark is a terrible idea. Such constants are invaluable when one’s best friend semi-routinely pulls shit like: discovering a new element, making a major break through in seemingly random areas of scientific intrigue overnight and on a whim, and developed increasingly destructive weapons primarily for fun. </p><p>From the day they met, Tony banging on Rhode’s door at midnight, absolutely hammered, looking for a bathtub to sleep in Rhodey knew: this kid is a terrible idea. And thus the first two points on the list are a.) 16 year old, drunk on a <i>Tuesday</i> and b.) rich, white boy. A decade later those reasons don’t even seem worth mentioning.</p><p><i>Dishonorable discharge</i> and <i>international incident</i> levels of scandal were a far, far more pressing concern.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Sigh*  
> This is quite the monster I've unleashed... This is not in anyway going to be Tony centric. I hope to have on point Tony characterization and hide how much I love to hate him in my text but this story is really, absolutely, almost completely about Rhody. I will one day figure out a way to write him without dragging Tony along to be a major character but today is not that day.

The new freshman haven't even been at MIT a  _week_  when someone starts banging on their door. His room mate, Adrian, just snores louder. James figures since he’s on the bottom bunk and already disturbed enough by the racket that he’s not going to drift back to sleep he should earn some good roommate points and answer the door.

A - well… he’s definitely younger than James, and James is 17 and not turning 18 until spring break, which means this guy’s probably 16, maybe even 15 - stands in the hall way. He blinks a little grumpily and a little dazedly at James. It’s not until the boy speaks that James smells the alcohol on him.

“Do you have a bathtub I could crash in?”

“What?”

The boy lets out a put upon sigh, “A bathtub.” he repeats, slowly. Not like he’s trying to enunciate his words but like he thinks James won’t understand them. Great.

“Yes?”

“Can I sleep in it?”

James stares at him. The boy stares at the middle distance, maybe occasionally focusing on James. He looks behind him, to where Adrain is sleeping, probably for real, on the top bunk. This might just lose him all those good roommate points he just racked up for getting up at - James glances to the clock display - 1:34 am. He nods, and moves out of the way so the stranger can enter.

There are only two doors in the cramped living space. It’s not hard to tell which is the closet and which is the bathroom seeing as the closet is half open with Adrian’s, and some of James’ but mostly Adrian’s  stuff cascading out of it.

James settles back into his bed, wondering what events led this boy to sleep in his bathtub, and thinking, rather jadedly,  _god damn it hasn’t even been a week yet_  and that if he’s going to be faced with the guarantee of an awkward morning after he’d rather actually get something out of it  _especially_  since Adrian is going to wake up in the middle of it. He’d also, he thinks, starting to fall sleep, rather choose who it is he’s going to be skating around like he’s Surya Bonaly.

He goes with the “let’s just don’t talk about it” strategy. Which is kind of hard to do while he and Adrian do the dance in and out of the bathroom because the, “what ever, we live together now, modesty is inconvenient” vibe they built up to make their morning routine as efficient and streamlined as possible is completely  _smashed_  with a strange freshman sitting at one of their desk chairs, rubbing his teeth with the inside of his shirt in lieu of brushing.

On the way to the mess hall there’s one question that James can’t get out of his head. “Don’t you have to go get your books and stuff?”

“No. The deal was I’ll pack up what I need for the day and Mark will bring it to our first class.”

Mark was probably the shitty roommate who kicked this kid out to… well, hopefully just to have sex.

“It’s not a big deal.” The boy shrugged, flippantly. James got the impression that he did everything flippantly. He walked, rather, strutted, flippantly. He ran his fingers through his hair. Flippantly. He even cleaned his teeth flippantly. He probably rolled out of the bathtub flippantly too - never mind that he was probably at least a little bit hungover.

Thankfully, they part ways soon after that.

Adrian and James are already in the habit of eating breakfast together. Mostly because they’re both morning people and are absolutely terrified of having to eat alone. Or worse, having to sit next to someone you don't know. Because after “letting a stranger sleep in your bathtub” the worst way to meet someone in college is to have to sit next to them in the dining hall. Everyone knows it. It, after FOMO, is the deepest freshman fear... Sitting across from someone you don’t know. Hoping that you actually do remember the correct way to cut your meat despite all the times you resisted learning and that you don’t dribble sauce down your front or stare at the other person too much. Or not enough. Somehow sitting with someone whose name you already know, even if they’re still basically a stranger just… makes it better. And this time they have something to talk about.

“So what was with bathtub boy?”

James shakes his head, “No idea, I mean, his room mate kicked him out…”

“Do you think he had a girl?”

“That’s the best scenario.”

“Really? Not even-” Adrian makes a jerking motion with his fist.

James makes a face and says, emphatically, “No. That would make him the worst roommate ever.”

“I think the worst roommate ever probably pisses on things.” Adrian says, veering  a little off topic, looking thoughtful. Then he makes a face, thankfully not voicing his next thought out loud.

James rolls his eyes, “But think about it, how rude it would be to kick your roommate out for the entire night just to rub one out?”

Adrian makes a noise, vaguely agreeing. “It would be a more regular thing, wouldn’t it?”

They both crack a smile.

“What’s the kid's name?” Adrian asks.

“Didn’t catch it.” Which, was maybe the worst part of the whole thing. Because you haven’t actually  _met_ someone until you know there name. He could have like, chem with this guy later. He'd have to go through the, "Oh, you're that kid I let sleep in my bathtub that one night" and the "Oh, yeah, that happened" again. It was probably a lot like the, "Oh, haha, we slept together that one time" and "Oh, yep. Sure did." There'd be no avoiding it. Or him. There was only fate.

And as it turned out, fate liked to fuck with him. Because guess who got transferred into his Math class the next day?

Bathtub boy. Whose name is Tony Stark. And James isn't sure if that makes it better or worse.


	2. Chapter 2

James’ first thought when bathtub boy walks into his chem lab a week later is, _Oh, fuck me._ He’d known there’d be no avoiding this kid, especially since he doesn’t even know his name, but he would have liked a little more time to try and forget him in hopes that it would make the reunion a little less embarrassing. 

He strides into the classroom like he owns the place, and spots the empty seat next to James. James glances around, it’s not the only empty seat but it might as well be. Already people are trying to avoid the students who smell like they substitute showers by spraying their clothes with febreze. 

“Tony Stark.” The kid says when he reaches James.

James half expects him to hold out a hand to shake. He wonders if this is _the_ Tony Stark. It probably is (because that’s the kind of luck he has). Then he wonders why Stark’s kid doesn’t have a single room. So… It’s not like “Tony” is a rare name and it’s not like “Stark”’s all that uncommon either.

There’s a kind of awkward pause before James realizes he should respond. “James Rhodes.”

“Nice to meet you.” And he takes to stool across the lab table. “Did the teacher demonstrate the fire proof desk the first day?”

“What?” James has already gone back to glancing over his notes, doing a few math problems while waiting for class to start.

“The fire proof desks, did you get to see them in action?”

“… Yes.” James has to think about the question because it honestly didn’t make _that_ much of an impression on him. It wasn’t the first time he’s seen the display. His answer seems to please Tony so he asks, “Why?”

“There’s a strong correlation between teachers who set the desks on fire and not being boring. If I have to relearn this shit there might as well be some pyrotechnics.”

And that… is quite the can of worms. James wonders who much of the pyrotechnics are going to come from the professor and how many are going to come from Tony. He just says, “Uh-huh.” And prays he doesn’t get roped into any of it.

“By the way, no offense, but James is a crap name?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He says absently, not looking up from his math notes this time.

“Boring. Freaking everyone is named ‘James’.”

“What ever you say, _Tony_.”

Tony plows on, ignoring James’ comment. “I’m going to call you Rhody.”

James snorts and looks up. Tony is staring at him, mostly expressionless. _Oh shit. Is he serious?_

“So, _Rhody_ , what brings you to MIT?”

“Air force.” James responds, clipped. He's hoping Tony will get bored and think he's not worth his time.

“What are you thinking of doing there?”

“Pilot.”

“That’s so unimaginative. What about like… Loadmaster? Or something?”

His name is boring, his tentative career path is unimaginative, what else is this jackass going to find unexceptable about him?

“I don’t want to be replaced by a computer.” 

This actually makes Tony smirk.

James turns back to his math, then glances at his watch. There’s only a few minutes left until the prof shows up. So he packs it away instead, pulling out his lab note book and a pen.

Tony doesn’t move to do the same. Normally James would tell him that he really does need to take notes for the class but in this case, he doubts it.

 

 

Adrian comes in when James is already asleep, so it’s not until breakfast the next morning that James gets to break the news. “Bathtub boy is Tony Stark.”

“ _The_ Tony Stark.”

“I think so. I don’t think any other freshman have that name. And he’s old enough.”

“Young enough.”

“The right age.”

Adrian whistles. “So what’s he like?”

“When he’s not drunk and looking to sleep in a bathtub?”

“Yep.”

James thinks about what to say. He could just shrug it off, make up platitudes but instead he says, “Really weird kid. Rude. He thought my name was boring and my plan to be a pilot was unimanagive. He assigned me the nick name ‘Rhody’.”

“You should call him ‘Starky’.”

James laughs.

“Or you could call him ‘Anthony’. Go in the opposite direction.”

“You’re assuming I’m ever going to see him again.”

Adrain shrugs, “Eh. Though, he doesn’t seem so bad…”

“Rich, entitled.”

“I mean, ‘Rhody’s not a bad name. It could be a lot worse.”

James sighs.

“And James _is_ kind of boring.”

“Don’t you start trying to tell me I shouldn’t be a pilot.”

“I’d never.”

“So you’re still on my side after all.”

“What else are roommates for.”

And James thinks back to that night and wonders what Mark is like, kicking a kid out of his room like that. And he wonders if Tony had gotten drunk before or after. And, he remembers something Tony said. Is this _routine_ for them?

“You’re a great roommate.”

“Careful,” says Adrian, “Or I might think you mean that.”

James shrugs it off and turns back to his food.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to message or follow me on tumblr at dusty-soul.tumblr.com


End file.
